


A series of firsts

by MadamRed



Series: OtaYuri Week 2017 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Day One, First Times, M/M, OtaYuri Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:24:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9837917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamRed/pseuds/MadamRed
Summary: Otayuri Week 2017 - DAY ONE(Feb 20): First times/Confessions (pining, first time dating/kissing/cuddling, love declarations)Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin became friends during the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona and have never looked back. Here’s a little insight into some of their firsts through the years!





	1. First Hug

The first time he and Otabek hugged happened a few months after the GPF, a month after Yuri’s sixteenth birthday.

Ever since the Kazakh saved him that day in Barcelona, they had exchanged numbers and talked sporadically throughout the week, despite the time differences between their home countries. They were both busy, especially Yuri who had the Europeans in January before Otabek competed at Four Continents in February, but they made their friendship work with the help of Skype and a variety of other apps –even if it was mostly Yuri encouraging Otabek to use them more and the latter insisting that he was more of a passive user. Yuri noticed, however, that it was Otabek who almost always initiated their conversations every couple of days.

After Europeans, they had their first video call mainly because Otabek wanted to congratulate Yuri “in person” for his new Gold medal. From then on, all their evening talks became video calls, even if they were only five minutes long. Neither understood why just yet, nor would they ever admit it if they did, but they both craved to see the other. They couldn’t wait to meet again at Worlds.

Their friendship progressed from talking about their rivals and the competition circle, to their personal interests, the music they listened to, Yuri’s obsession with cats and Otabek’s love for motorcycles. In the short span of two months, they managed to cover every topic they could think of, until they inevitably reached family life and friendship.

They had never had someone to confide in, so one late Saturday night, when neither knew what to talk about, Yuri, not wanting to go to bed yet after running out of things to chat about, suddenly asked Otabek about his family, which then led to Otabek asking about Yuri’s. And, just like with every conversation they had, they were honest in their answers, moving fluidly from that to the question of friends, realising that they both considered the other their best friend already.

They didn’t cover love or romantic relationships that night, much to the relief of Yuri, who simply did not want to admit that he didn’t really have a lot of experience in that department. He didn’t want to be seen as a loser by his new, cool friend, who had probably had a few romantic partners. Yuri could definitely wait for that one.

When they finally met a couple of weeks later, both of them felt the shift in their relationship. The last time they had seen each other, they were just rivals finding each other again after briefly meeting at a summer camp five years before. Now, they were friends who had to go up against each other. They wanted to do something more than just share a glance or a nod during their practices, but both men were too focused on the competition ahead.

Shortly after Worlds finished, with JJ taking the Gold, Katsudon acquiring another Silver medal and Yuri barely scraping for Bronze, they were standing at the airport about to leave in the direction of their respective gates.

‘So, I guess I’ll see you again when the season starts, right?’ Yuri mumbled a little, looking down, his signature hoodie covering his golden hair and most of his features.

‘Yeah, but we’ll still talk,’ Otabek replied, awkwardly lifting one hand and squeezing Yuri’s shoulder to get him to lift his eyes. It worked. Green met brown for the first time that day, and Otabek couldn’t help but smile at the shorter boy. ‘Congratulations on your Bronze, Yuri. I’m sure you’ll be able to beat JJ next time.’

‘Maybe. But now that Katsudon’s _learnt_ how to skate and Viktor’s coming back…,’ he trailed off, consumed by self-doubt thanks to all those articles Otabek saw him read about his Gold at the GPF being a fluke.

But that wasn’t all. Otabek could tell Yuri was still pissed off at having lost against JJ of all people, but he didn’t know what to do to comfort him. So, he did the first thing that came to mind, something he did whenever a person he cared about was feeling down. He took advantage of the hand still resting on Yuri’s shoulder and brought the boy closer to him as he stepped forward, putting both arms around the back of Yuri’s neck. They had been calling each other best friends for two months, surely… this was okay, right?

He felt the younger boy freeze briefly at the contact but quickly relaxed and brought his own arms around Otabek’s middle. They held each other for a few seconds and then stepped back to stand next to their luggage, both trying not to let goofy smiles take over their faces. Yuri cleared his throat and turned to leave, his suitcase in tow. He walked a few paces before looking over his shoulder and saying with a sweet smile:

‘Thank you, Beka. See you in a few months!’ and with that, he walked towards an exasperated Yakov and a bored-looking Lilia, who were waiting for him.

Otabek stood there until his friend’s back got lost among the sea of people moving around the airport and turned to follow his own coach to his gate, all the while covering the little smile that refused to leave his face with his scarf.

_Beka,_ he thought.  _Yeah, I could get used to that nickname…_


	2. First selfie together

He, as always, was  _appalled_  at the fact that Otabek would never post anything on his Instagram account. After being friends for months now, he still couldn’t get Otabek to join him in his silly, daily updates. Sure, his Kazakh friend liked pretty much all the pictures Yuri posted and would sometimes send him some via whatever app they were using to talk in private when he asked him to…

But that wasn’t enough for Yuri. He would much rather open the Instagram app on his phone and find the pictures there. He would even be content with a landscape, the picture of a stray cat, anything. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it did. So, he promised himself he would try and get Otabek to post more.

He was gentle in his approach, something which surprised even himself. He was aware of his brash and loud personality, and how that, sometimes, rubbed some people up the wrong way. Maybe his anger was fading now that he was sixteen? Or was it the fact that he had won a few more gold medals after the GPF, shutting anyone up who dared say it had been a fluke?

He shrugged. That wasn’t important now. What mattered was that, little by little and very subtly, he would compliment Otabek’s pictures and would hint at this or that filter and how it would improve it. After a few weeks, one Thursday morning, just as he started stretching before practice, he decided to check what his rivals had been up to while he slept.

He was glad he had decided to sit down to stretch his legs this time around because, otherwise, the screen of his phone would’ve cracked at the fall after the device slipped from his fingers. He looked around to make sure no one had seen him dropping his phone and picked it up, sighing in relief at the empty rink. Only Yakov, Viktor and Katsudon were there, the latter already skating while Viktor and Yakov chatted about the upcoming competition.

The first thing Yuri saw on Instagram at 9 am that day was a picture of Otabek, shirtless at the gym, at a freaking bench press lifting weights, looking straight up at the camera, his face showing the effects of prolonged physical exertion. The caption read: _“Early workouts are the worst.”_

_You don’t say,_ thought Yuri, whose mouth had gone suddenly very, very dry as he turned his phone and brought it closer to his face to look at the picture from a different angle. It had obviously been taken by someone looking down at his friend, apparently his coach from the name he read below the caption.

After that, morning practice became a blur of falls from him and shouts from Yakov, along with a few sympathetic glances from the happy couple he had to share the rink with. Couldn’t they understand that he was distracted? He had seen his best friend shirtless and sweaty with various muscles _flexing._ He had looked delici- _No!_ Yuri couldn’t bring himself to even think about him in that way.

This was his best friend. His very _first_ friend, for that matter. Despite what his rink mates said about them all being close, Yuri knew that Otabek was the most important person in his life after his Grandpa. He couldn’t possibly let himself be influenced by a stupid photo, right?

He absolutely could, actually.

The following night when he was lying in bed and Beka called him via Skype, he felt scared. Any other time, he would’ve answered after a few rings, but now… he hesitated. Could he look at him the same way after having those thoughts plaguing his mind for two days? How could he look at Beka in the eye and _not_ tell him he had saved the picture and had to fight against the urge of setting it as his lockscreen?

He sighed and pushed the green button on the screen himself once the call was cancelled on the other end. He was the first one to talk, apologising and saying he had been in the bathroom. Beka just smiled and brushed it off without a second thought, and so conversation went on as usual. Not once did his friend mention his recent post on social media, and Yuri was grateful that he didn’t have to lie to his face.

He went to bed with conflicting feelings once more but feeling happy after seeing his friend smile and laugh so openly with him now. He longed to see him again and wondered if Otabek was going through a similar thing. Maybe he could test his theory with a little retaliation of sorts.

_I mean, what is friendship without a little competition, right?_ Yuri thought to himself with a small, mischievous smile. What his brain forgot to remind him of before falling asleep was that they _already_ were in a highly competitive environment to be thinking of adding more fuel to the fire…

The next day, he went running and bumped into Viktor at a nearby park. They decided to run together, enjoying the silent companionship. Afterwards, Yuri, taking advantage of the fact that Viktor was with him, asked him to take a picture of him while he stretched, which he posted promptly after. His rink mate, used to this kind of behaviour from him, didn’t think much of it. And so that’s how his phone started blowing up with notifications, mostly from Yuri’s Angels. He decided not to pay any attention to them until he got home and showered.

When he unlocked his phone an hour later, he saw that Otabek had liked his picture and then realised he had a text message from the man himself: _“I feel like I need to up my game now.”_ Wait, what game? His social media skills? His stretching? This little teasing contest they were apparently having now? He replied vaguely, saying that Otabek didn’t stand a chance against him and then the topic changed into more mundane, and thankfully _safer,_ topics.

Neither posted another picture like that. Both men knew they could not afford to get distracted right now, especially with the GPF right around the corner.

They met yet again in December, this time in Nagoya, Japan. Katsudon was particularly stressed out due to the fact that he was representing his country and was pretty shaken up. The competition was fierce, as usual. But, with JJ out due to an unexpected injury, the probabilities of both Otabek and Yuri making it to the podium were high.

After the SP, Viktor and Katsudon were first and second, respectively, followed immediately after by Yuri and Otabek. They were excited and a little terrified of the prospects, especially Yuri. He wanted them to get to the podium _together_ this time around. Despite Otabek’s jokes about being used to getting his ass kicked by the three top skaters, Yuri knew he wanted a medal just as badly.

As much as Yuri wished for it, it just wasn’t meant to happen. Katsudon ended up raising to the occasion and even surpassing Viktor with his FS. The results were: Katsudon on top, followed by Viktor and then Yuri, who had managed to narrow down the difference between them by a lot, but it still wasn’t enough to beat Viktor. The positive thing was that Beka, even though he didn’t reach the podium, got fourth place with a new personal best, which meant that, overall, he felt it had been a good performance.

‘I still have Four Continents, Yura. Just wait and see,’ he told him calmly during the banquet while Yuri mopped around, avoiding speaking to any sponsors and hiding behind Otabek’s slightly larger frame, irritating his coach immensely every time he came around looking for him.

They left early, Yuri still upset about the whole ordeal, and Otabek, not wanting to leave him alone, followed him out and up to his room. He was more than ready to call it a night, except that, when they reached Yuri’s room, the younger man just grabbed him by the sleeve of his suit as he opened the door with his card, turning around with those green-coloured eyes Otabek no longer associated with those of a soldier.

Now, those eyes elicited a feeling of warmth that spread around his chest, making him feel both happy and sad. Yuri was his friend but he would never be anything else. He would never do anything to harm him or risk his friendship. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did.

So, he followed him in and indulged the blond in pretty much anything he wanted to do. Even when he started a little photo session.

‘Beka,’ Yuri called once Otabek returned from the bathroom.

‘What is it, Yuri?’ he asked him, sitting next to him on the window sill. He had to swallow twice out of nervousness. Yuri’s face looked… Was there even a word for it?

The city lights were illuminating his face in _just_ the right way. While he had been in the bathroom, Yuri had tied his now long hair in a ponytail and it was resting on his left shoulder. Otabek knew which word he needed: _perfect._ His best friend was the most infuriatingly gorgeous creature on Earth, and Otabek had to fight the sudden urge to gather him in his arms, like he had done impulsively that day at the airport.

‘We don’t have any pictures together,’ Yuri announced, already moving to sit closer to his friend, their thighs pressed together.

‘A-and?’ he stammered, his voice a little high-pitched. He cleared his throat, hoping Yuri hadn’t noticed the change.

‘And we’re friends, and I want to have at least a few pictures with you,’ he insisted as he angled the camera in front of their faces.

Otabek tried to pose like Yuri asked him to, but he just wasn’t as photogenic as him. Yuri, getting frustrated with the results –and yet not deleting any of the failed pictures from his phone–, dropped his hand in defeat, his arm getting tired from being stretched out for so long.

‘Give me the phone. I have an idea,’ Otabek told him as Yuri gave him the device without a word. Otabek stretched his arm and put the same expression as before but told Yuri to close his eyes this time.

‘What? Why would I do that?’ he had asked, confused by the request.

‘Just, do it, okay? Trust me, it’ll look good,’ Otabek gave him a little smile and Yuri complied, closing his eyes and relaxing when Otabek put his arm around his friend’s back, the hand now resting on his shoulder hidden from view thanks to Yuri’s cascading hair.

Otabek braced himself for what he was about to do and took a deep breath. He then angled the cell phone so that the focus was more on the city expanding below them than on their faces and pressed his lips to Yuri’s cheek. Yuri opened his eyes immediately, surprise written all over his face, until he felt his friend squeezing his shoulder. He relaxed again and felt the corners of his mouth turn up slightly.

The end result was actually pretty good, especially if you took into account that it was Beka who had thought of it. It featured them at the bottom, Beka’s lips barely touching Yuri’s cheek and both looking up at the camera, while the city looked endless behind them.

Yuri would never admit it aloud, but the look on Beka’s face made his stomach do flips that he was sure were not something a friend should make you feel _at all._ His forehead pressed against Yuri’s temple, while his face was slightly angled up towards the camera and the corner of his lips that was visible turned up in such a way that it seemed like he knew a secret no one else did. It was _so_ unfair.

Yuri posted it. He couldn’t really resist. He, of course, insisted on putting a black and white filter on the picture to hide the very evident blush on his pale skin, and it made the scene look even more intimate than before. Yuri’s Angels were going to have a field day with that one…

Overall, he would say that _yes,_ getting Otabek into taking more pictures was a very good idea, and that first selfie together –also known as Yuri’s first kiss on the cheek– was definite proof that it had been a successful mission.


	3. Yuri’s first self-choreographed routine

It was summer. And a year had passed since Katsudon took Gold at the GPF, and he and Viktor had finally got married a few months afterwards. The ceremony still plagued Yuri’s mind. He had cried during the whole thing, hiding his tears behind his hands or taking solace in Otabek’s arms in an empty corridor where he knew no one would look for them.

It had been absolutely beautiful. The ceremony had been held in Hasetsu during the summer to make it easier for Yuri’s family and friends to assist as well as the couple’s friends from the skating world. Yuko-chan practically ruined her dress with all the nose-bleeding she did, especially when Chris introduced himself to her. Her kids recorded both grooms’ speeches and, thanks to Minako’s insistence, the video was uploaded to the internet and went viral, just like the video of Katsudon skating to Viktor’s winning routine had.

But that wasn’t what bothered him. He could just dismiss Mila’s teasing about his crying with a few snarky remarks and be done with it; she got bored after a few more tries anyway. No. What really bothered him were the feelings the ceremony in itself ignited in him. He couldn’t deny it anymore. Yuri Plisetsky, now eighteen-year-old figure skating star, was irrevocably in love with his best friend, Otabek Altin.

It was all Viktor and Katsudon’s fault, of course. You know, for _making_ him dance with Beka during the party, for _making_ him cry out of the sheer happiness of watching two of the people he admired the most getting married and, therefore, for _making_ him look for comfort in Beka’s warm embrace. He could still remember the feeling of safety when he was wrapped up in his arms as he cried his heart out…

He sighed as he glided across the ice. Yes, it was summer, but that only meant that Yuri got to the rink at 10 am instead of 8.30. Yakov may let him sleep in a little, but the fact that it was the off-season didn’t mean that Yuri could just slack off and lose everything he had been working for.

Because, competition wise, the past year hadn’t been his greatest. His growth spurts were making it hard for him to land all the jumps he had grown used to nailing as a teenager starting out in the Senior division. Lilia insisted that he would find his balance again once he got accustomed to his new body, that it was completely normal, but he had troubles believing her.

During breakfast, before heading to the rink, his coaches had asked him if he had thought of a theme yet for the upcoming season, but Yuri could not find what it was that he wanted to express on the ice. He had been searching for music, too, to see if it would help him think of something, but nothing inspired him. He wanted to do right by Yakov, since he was entrusting him with such a big responsibility, and find a piece that would help them both him and Lilia visualise a good performance, and he was failing that as well.

He needed to clear his head, which is why he had asked them to train by himself that morning. They had agreed without a word, knowing that Yuri was going through something personal, although they didn’t know exactly what it was, or rather _who_ it involved. An eighteen-year-old skater moping all day and missing his jumps? They recognised the signs; it had to be love-related. So, after they exchanged a look, Yakov simply nodded at Yuri and the blond left the house promptly after.

Yuri didn’t know what to do anymore. Beka was his friend. How would he react if he were to say anything about his feelings? He thought he saw certain signals but he wasn’t sure. What if, for example, that text Beka had sent him about having to “up his game” a few years back was just an innocent thing and Yuri had just allowed his recent infatuation to blur his judgement? What if that kiss on the cheek had been just that, a friendly gesture?

He could convince himself that his feelings were pushing him to see things that didn’t even exist, but then the wedding happened, and the confusion he felt was at an all-time high. He was mentally drained after thinking so much about their everyday conversations and physically exhausted after trying to get his inspiration back, both on and off the ice. He sighed and gave up, leaving the rink. _Maybe going for a stroll will help,_ he thought.

He went back home for lunch and practised ballet with Lilia’s advanced summer camp students in the afternoon. The routine aspect of it helped but, it wasn’t enough to calm the restlessness that had settled in his heart. So, he turned to his computer once more, avoiding signing into Skype because he _really_ didn’t need Beka’s distracting face in that moment, and continued his search for songs.

It was nearly time for dinner when he came across a playlist on YouTube with a bunch of instrumental songs from an anime’s soundtrack. He was so desperate at that point, he didn’t care where the music had originated. He just wanted to close his eyes and feel something that would quiet his racing heart.

He skipped most of the songs, since they didn’t really suit his style, until a beautiful violin melody started. It calmed him, and he could see himself skating to it, already thinking about the possible jumps he could include. He checked the other songs by the same artist and found one which, while it wasn’t as perfect as the other, would work for his FS. The harmonious voices creating yet another mental image in his head of what it could look like.

He got excited for the first time in months and downloaded both songs. This was it. He even knew what his theme was going to be. He ran to the kitchen and just played the songs to his coaches on his phone, both stopping the dinner preparations and listening intently, their eyes closed the entire time. When they reopened them, they exchanged yet another wordless look and smiled at Yuri.

He had done it. He had found the inspiration he was craving for.

After dinner, and despite Yakov’s loud protests, Yuri went to the rink. He had to skate to the songs immediately if he was going to perfect his routines in time for the first event of the season.

He played the shortest song over and over again, until he found his rhythm and even attempted a few jumps here and there. He was breathing heavily by the sixth time it restarted and he dropped to his knees, one hand on top of his rapidly-beating heart and a smile taking over his face. He closed his eyes and was surprised to hear someone clapping.

He looked around and then saw Katsudon entering the rink, a soft smile on his lips.

‘Oi, Katsudon, what are you doing here so late? Weren’t you and Viktor in Japan for your anniversary?’ Yuri asked as he got up, his legs rather cold after kneeling on the ice.

‘I wanted to practice a little. We arrived yesterday and Viktor is still trying to sleep off the jet-lag,’ Yuuri replied, shrugging.

‘Well, I’m finished for today. The rink is all yours,’ Yuri told him as he skated towards the nearest exit. ‘Tell the old man hi for me,’ he added while he put on his safe-guards.

‘Will do. That song was beautiful, by the way. Was that for your short programme?’ Yuuri asked before the Russian teen could leave.

‘Yeah, I came across it today and wanted to see if it felt right,’ Yuri turned and looked at the Japanese man as he started skating in small circles where Yuri had been just a minute ago.

‘What’s it called?’ Yuuri tilted his head to the side as he came to a stop in the middle of the ice.

‘Th-that doesn’t matter, Katsudon!’ Yuri answered, not ready to share that just yet.

‘Do you know what your theme is going to be this year?’ the older skater asked, undeterred by Yuri’s sudden anger.

‘Soulfulness,’ Yuri told him, looking at him straight in the eye. ‘And don’t you dare say anything to anyone, okay? Especially to the old man and the hag!’

‘Gotcha,’ was all Yuuri told him with a knowing smile before skating away to start practising.

 

* * *

He showed Yakov and Lilia what he had worked on the night before, and they both liked it so much, they encouraged him to continue working on it by himself. This was going to be Yuri’s first self-choreographed programme and he had never felt so motivated. They, in turn, focused on his FS but still made suggestions to improve on his short one. Yuri took everything they said into account and performed almost flawlessly throughout the first two events leading up to the GPF.

Since Yuri knew he and Otabek wouldn’t cross paths during the season until the Grand Prix Final, he had asked Otabek not to watch any live feeds or videos of his performances. Otabek, although slightly confused, agreed and kept his promise. When he asked Yuri the reason behind his request, Yuri just smiled brightly at him and told him he wanted it to be a surprise.

So, when the moment arrived, Otabek was excited to finally watch his friend on the ice. He was always so graceful with his ballerina-like movements and his face was always like an open book as he skated. He could just tell when Yuri was upset about a particular landing or about a step sequence gone wrong.

Otabek had skated first for the men’s SP, getting an incredible score. But, instead of going up to take a seat among the spectators and relax, he decided to hang around the kiss and cry in case Yuri needed some words of encouragement before stepping on the ice. JJ was about to finish, and he didn’t want the Canadian near his friend right before the performance.

But Otabek should’ve known better. When Yuri walked past him, green eyes trained on the ice, he knew Yuri didn’t really need him there. His hair, now short, made him look a lot more mature, Otabek noticed, making his heart race like it did each time he was waiting on the ice for the music to start playing. He had seen it in pictures and video calls, but seeing it in person was a completely different story.

He was really surprised, though, when Yuri took off his jacket. His costume wasn’t flashy like the ones he had worn the year before. This time he was wearing his typical all-black skates, along with a black shirt and trousers. His shirt, slightly loose instead of fitted, had a small V-neck that showed his strong collarbones behind a few strings that connected both sides.

The only detail Otabek was able to see was a fleur-de-lis – _a symbol of perfection, light and life,_ his brain reminded him– embroidered on the left side of the shirt, right on top of Yuri’s heart. The colours, however, were what took him aback. Among the sea of black, the sky-blue on the inside of the flower and the golden lining surrounding it stood out… They were the same colours as ones in the Kazakh flag.

Otabek shook his head. It was probably just a coincidence. The gold could be in reference to Yuri’s hair colour for all he knew. Surely, neither of his coaches would’ve allowed Yuri to wear the colours of another country’s flag on his chest, right?

 _‘Davai!’_ he said before he lost the chance to, and Yuri just looked at him, not saying or doing anything in response.

He then turned and spoke briefly with his coaches who only nodded at him, soft smiles on their faces. _That’s odd,_ Otabek thought, as he followed Yuri’s movements around the ice as the commentator said Yuri’s name and country.

_‘And now, eighteen-year-old Yuri Plisetsky from Russia, with a surprisingly heart-warming routine. We’ve seen him improve with each new performance and he’s definitely trying for Gold again this year. Here he is, skating to “[Guess how much I love you”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hy6kLGNMN8o), choreographed by Plisetsky himself.’_

Otabek saw Yuri standing in the middle of the ice, his right hand resting on top of his chest, and there it was again, Yuri’s piercing green eyes. It could’ve been Otabek’s mind playing tricks on him, but he could’ve sworn Yuri was looking at him whenever he could throughout the entire performance.

The attire, the song choice, Yuri’s looks… everything combined gave Otabek a feeling of sorrow as he watched him move flawlessly around the ice. His steps were delicate, fluid and in time with the music, his jumps and spins were executed perfectly, and yet his expression seemed almost… forlorn. It brought tears to Otabek’s eyes. Could it be that Yuri was hurting and he didn’t know?

The music was coming to an end and Yuri skated to the middle of the ice again as he spun in place, his arms above his head in a fluid and solid upright spin. Then, both of his hands came to rest against his chest. His right hand remained there next to the fleur-de-lis on his heart, and Yuri fell gracefully on his knees as he lifted his left arm, his palm up, [as if he were giving something precious to someone](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/157468923571/hi-heres-my-disgustingly-talented-boyfriends).

Otabek was speechless. Yuri was looking directly at him at the end. Was his friend hurting because of _him?_

 

* * *

Otabek wanted to ask Yuri about his performance, but his coach didn’t want him to get distracted. This was going to be his year, his coach assured him after the partial results. Otabek was in first place, followed closely by Yuri and Katsuki. Viktor in fourth and Chris in fifth. JJ apparently hadn’t recovered fully from his injury yet and was in last place.

The two friends didn’t have a chance to speak again before the FS with all the interviews and the like, and so Otabek had to wait. Yuri kept avoiding him, or maybe Yakov and Lilia didn’t want their protégé to get distracted either. The Kazakh was getting more restless _because_ he couldn’t speak to him than by the fact that he was going to be skating last thanks to his getting the highest score yesterday.

He stepped outside the curtains after warming up in time to see Yuri start his free skate. Again, his outfit was not as colourful as they used to be; this time he was wearing black trousers with a light blue button-down shirt. From what he had read in articles, the song title and performance were like an answer to his SP.

 _‘The song Plisetsky is skating to today it’s called “[Endlessly”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIgpobsQwY4). Since his theme this year is _ Soulfulness, _this is definitely the perfect continuation to his routine yesterday. The choreography is by his coach, and former Prima Ballerina, Lilia Baranovskaya.’_

The feeling was different, but it was true that it was like Yuri was answering the question posed during his short programme. The soft melody and voices, combined with his open smile during the routine, made Otabek’s heart soar. Yuri, again, landed all of his jumps perfectly. His spins followed the rhythm of the song to a tee, and his step sequences were intricate yet delicate, like all of Lilia’s choreographies.

After three and half beautiful minutes, Yuri skated to the middle of the ice and stood there, arms stretched out next to his body, while his face looked upwards and his eyes closed due to the bright lights above his head.

The applause was _thunderous_ compared to the previous day, and Otabek couldn’t bring himself to care that his coach was calling him as he started clapping alongside everyone else on the venue. Yuri’s performance had been moving and it motivated him to skate with everything he had.

Once the applause died down and Yuri finished bowing, he approached Yakov, who unexpectedly hugged him as Lilia tried to not let any tears fall. At the kiss and cry, Yuri was leaning forwards, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands wrapped around the back of his head. When his score was announced, Yuri couldn’t believe his ears. Just over 310 points and, since only Otabek was left, he was going to be on the podium for sure.

He sighed in relief and got up as his friend stepped on the ice. He ran towards the edge of the rink and yelled his usual word of encouragement:

‘Beka, _Davai!’_ to which Otabek just smiled at him in return before looking down, focusing on how he was supposed to start.

 _‘Now we have yesterday’s highest score! Otabek Altin from Kazakhstan. This twenty-one-year old has always been close, but it seems that this might be his year. He will be skating to the song “[Night Vision”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SO4_j40xtrk) and, following his theme of _ Rebirth _, he has incorporated some more traditional dance moves into his performance.’_

Otabek was confident as he skated, having perfected the choreography since his last somewhat sloppy performance. He spun as the violin echoed through the speakers above and moved in time with the drums, using everything he had learnt during his dance lessons over the summer. His heart beat fast before each jump, but, thankfully, his body responded to his every command and he managed to rotate and land decently, he deemed.

He finished, a hand covering half of his face, as he looked to the side. His chest rose and fell rapidly as the applause started. He bowed and moved to the kiss and cry, feeling a little bit light-headed. He drank water and hugged one of the teddy bears the spectators had thrown at him as he anxiously awaited his score, not listening to the praises coming from his coach.

Then, the results were announced. The usually stoic skater felt the saltiness of his tears reach his lips before he even registered that he was crying as he stared open-mouthed at the screen in front of him: 312.5 points.

Otabek had won his first Gold at a Grand Prix Final.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to see fanart made specifically for this fic, here are [two drawings](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/157468923571/hi-heres-my-disgustingly-talented-boyfriends) by my boyfriend ❤️️


	4. Otabek’s first Gold

‘Yuri?’ he asked after getting off the podium and away from the cameras before they had to change and go to the press conference. He had finally won Gold at the Grand Prix and his best friend, who had got Silver, wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Yuri, in turn, went straight to the locker room and started taking off his skates angrily, the material of his light blue shirt stretching over his broad shoulders. Yuri was known for choosing bold colour combinations to stand out on the ice, so the tame colours had surprised everyone. This time, his music, costumes and programmes had been… softer, somehow. He had said in interviews that he was trying to show variety, maturity even. The song he had used for his SP had been filled of the sweet sounds of violins and heartfelt piano melodies.

But Otabek felt like his friend was hiding something from him. He had put everything on the ice, following Yuri’s advice and chose a much daring song, still sticking to instrumental music, but he, too, wanted to show he could skate to anything and that he had “more than one string to his fiddle” like some of the media said the previous year, accusing him of not taking risks.

He had taken every comment into account, taken dance lessons and even choreographed his own short programme, too, while still relying on his coach for the free skate. And yet, now that he had managed to win Gold, his best friend had been refusing to acknowledge his presence ever since they announced the final results.

‘Yuri, would you _please_ look at me?’ he pleaded once Yuri, who was slightly taller than him now, finally got up and turned around after taking off his skates and putting on his Russian jacket. Otabek sat down and started taking off his skates.

‘Congratulations, Beka,’ Yuri said after a few seconds of awkward silence, his voice a little more strained than he would’ve liked it to be. ‘You did amazing out there.’

‘Thank you,’ Otabek said after putting on his sneakers. ‘I was going to tell you the same, actually,’ he was taking off the medal to leave it next to bouquet of flowers on the bench when Yuri scuffed at his comment. ‘What was that for?’ he got up and stood in front of his friend again.

‘I was not amazing, I was… _meh,’_ he shrugged before taking off his own medal and dropping it on the bench next to his bag and skates unceremoniously.

‘What are you saying? You got Silver! I only beat you by two points!’ he tried to reason with Yuri, but he should’ve known better than to push him like that.

Yes, Yuri had matured over the years and he was never as angry around Otabek as he was around other people, but the confusing feelings bottled up inside him were waiting for the perfect opportunity to burst.

 _‘Exactly!_ I put everything I had out there! Trained more than ever, finally understanding how my body works after all those growth spurts. I even chose my own music and choreographed the short programme! For what? To lose?!’ he was trying not to cry, but his sight was getting more and more blurry by the minute.

‘So, what you’re saying is that I did not deserve that medal?’ Otabek finally uttered, his expression blank to hide his hurt, while Yuri’s tears fell silently one right after the other.

‘No!’ screamed the blond. ‘That’s… that’s not what I meant.’

‘Then, what did you mean, Yuri? Because I’m here trying to share one of the biggest accomplishment of my skating career with my best friend and you, instead of being happy for me, seem to only want to wallow in self-pity.’

He regretted his harsh tone the moment he finished his little speech, but there was nothing he could do now to take it back.

‘I-I skated with everything I had, B-Beka,’ Yuri was crying freely now, not caring about how his face was getting all red or how weak his voice sounded.

‘I know-’

‘No, you don’t,’ Yuri interrupted him, softly. ‘I bared my heart out there for the whole world to see, and the _one_ person that was supposed to get it didn’t, and I couldn’t even win Gold! What’s the point of feeling all of this if I can’t… _express_ it on the ice?’

His teary green eyes looked up, and Otabek felt rooted to the spot, his heart beating uncharacteristically fast. Feelings? Someone was supposed to get it? Was this the reason why he had looked so heartbroken during his SP?

Yuri’s performance had tugged at something in his heart. Something he had been trying to push down for a long time. His movements had been softer, more delicate than in previous years. Now Otabek understood why. Yuri had been trying to convey his love for someone through his routine.

‘Who were you trying to reach with those… feelings?’ the word felt foreign in Otabek’s tongue. It was a word that held a little too much significance in his mind since he had been trying to repress his own feelings towards his best friend almost for as long as he knew him. Could he have been the one Yuri…? No, that was probably just wishful thinking.

‘Do you remember the end of my short programme, Beka?’ Yuri’s small voice and downward gaze surprised him. Was he embarrassed?

‘Yes, you ended it with a flourish of your hands and knelt down on-’ he stopped talking when he saw Yuri moving, doing exactly what he was describing.

There he was, his best friend and secret crush, moving both arms around his head like he had done on the ice. Was this what a déjà vu felt like? If he thought hard enough, he could hear the melody in his head as Yuri’s hands changed position. He even fell to his knees in front of him, right hand on his chest, above his heart, as he extended his left arm, palm up, once more. His usually fiery gaze was open and vulnerable, as he pointed his left hand directly at him, like he had done the day before.

Yuri had focused his eyes on him yesterday, too. He had thought Yuri was just using him as a sort of anchor point before spinning around but now, in the silence of the locker room, the gesture, along with his friend repeating the end of the routine in front of him, spoke volumes. Yuri had actively singled him out among the people looting around the rink and skated solely for him, competition be damned.

‘Yuri-’

‘Don’t. I-I know I should’ve said something instead of making such a spectacle out of our  _r-relationship,’_ Otabek heard the hesitation in his voice at the final word as Yuri got up from the floor. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Katsudon’s comments when he saw me practising,’ he murmured and Otabek had to refrain from laughing. As much as Yuri insisted he despised the Japanese man, he knew his friend admired him greatly.

‘I’m glad you did, actually,’ Otabek said, voice barely above a whisper, but loud enough to be heard in the empty room. He took a few steps and stood right in front of the man who had stolen his heart a long time ago without even trying.

‘Why?’ Yuri asked, hope flashing briefly through his eyes before they hardened again, getting ready to put his heart together again in case he was rejected.

‘Because it means that now  _I_  have to step up and be brave for once,’ he replied, while one of his hands reached out to grab Yuri’s, while the other came up to rest on his tear-streaked cheek.

They both leaned forward, eyes fluttering close as Yuri’s hand came to rest on top of Otabek’s on his cheek. The kiss wasn’t desperate despite their racing hearts; rather it was sweet and shy at times, both men trying to pour their feelings into it as much as they could.

Otabek felt Yuri interlacing their fingers together and stepping closer to him as he moved the hand on top of Otabek’s to place it on his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat underneath the thin fabric of his outfit.

Once they separated, Otabek bumped his nose against the blond’s, eliciting a little giggle from him, and a fond smile formed on Otabek’s face. Yuri was the first one to break the silence after their breathing got back to normal.

‘Do you have,’ Yuri kissed his right cheek, ‘any idea,’ his left cheek, ‘how long,’ another to his forehead, ‘I’ve been waiting,’ his nose, ‘for you to do that?’ and finally another one on his awaiting mouth.

Otabek was grinning as their lips moved, which made Yuri smile, turning the kiss into a mess of teeth and more giggles. They separated slightly and looked at each other, still smiling like the two fools in love that they were.

‘I’m sorry I made you cry, Yura,’ Otabek whispered, wrapping the Russian’s body up with his arms; his tone and expression serious.

‘It’s okay now,’ he allowed himself to melt in the warmth and safety of Otabek’s strong arms and nuzzled his chest, his hand still on top of his now more steady heartbeat. ‘I’m still blaming Katsudon for all of this, though.’

The Kazakh just laughed wholeheartedly at that, the remnants of tension from before leaving his body as Yuri’s green eyes stared at him.

‘Come on,’ Yuri grabbed Otabek’s arms and pulled them away from his body. ‘You need to change and we have a press conference to attend.’

‘Right,’ he sighed regretfully as he gathered his things and started putting his own track suit with the colours of his country. ‘Hey, Yuri,’ he called as the Russian played absent-mindedly with his phone, ‘should we… say something about this?’

Yuri stopped moving his fingers over the screen and thought for a second before shaking his head.

‘No, it’s going to blow up and take away from your achievement. You deserve to celebrate without the media harassing you with questions about us,’ he replied as he got up and grabbed the forgotten medals from the benches.

Once they were safely around their necks, they exited the locker room and went their separate ways to find their coaches. Sure, they wanted to be holding hands and kissing instead, but there was a time and a place for that, and they wanted to do things right, go on dates, that sort of stuff.

They shared a glance as they reached the opposite ends of the corridor and smiled at each other, their hearts skipping a beat but for a completely different reason now.

They had plenty of time ahead of them. They would figure everything out.


	5. First time pair skating

They reunited at Worlds and continued to have a secret relationship… or as “secret” as it got within their circle of acquaintances.

The first ones to figure something out were, of course, “the golden couple” as the media had baptised them ever since Katsudon’s win and subsequent wedding. And then it kind of snowballed from there. Viktor’s big mouth and annoying jokes about Yuri’s late blooming at their table during the GPF banquet had led them to admit they were dating to Phichit and Chris, who promised not to say anything about it.

That wasn’t a problem. The biggest problem was when Mila burst into Yuri’s room the morning after to find Yuri and Otabek sleeping on the same bed, all cuddled up on top of the covers and with the TV still on the Netflix app.

The two sleeping men had jumped when she screamed in surprise, which had prompted Yakov to come running to Yuri’s room, and well… everyone got yelled at that day. None of their coaches said anything other than to not let whatever was happening off the ice to affect their performances.

The reporters, however, after years of rumours, wanted to know whether there was something going on between them or not. But, at this point in their lives, Yuri and Otabek were used to dealing with nosey people, on and off the ice, so they handled themselves politely. Or at least Otabek did; Yuri just kind of walked out in the middle of an interview at the end of the GPF because the journalist wanted to know if they had had a fight after the results were announced.

Yakov scolded him but Lilia said they should be grateful Yuri didn’t flip them off, they could deal with a little rudeness.

But the rumours, articles and endless questions from both journalists and Yuri’s Angels wouldn’t leave them alone. Which prompted an idea to form in Yuri’s head during the banquet back in December after Katsudon took Viktor away in case Yuri decided to injure him in some way.

‘Hey, Beka,’ he had said. They had been sitting at a table, ignoring the rest of the world as usual.

‘Mm,’ Otabek had mumbled as he sipped from his glass of champagne. He made a face. Not matter how many times he tried it, beer would always taste better in his book.

‘I want to ask you something… Something that involves both of us on the ice,’ Yuri had whispered, leaning more to the right so that only his _boyfriend_ –the word still sent a pleasant thrill down Yuri’s spine every time he thought of it or said it aloud– could hear him.

‘What is it?’ Otabek had asked him, although he thought he knew what Yuri was going to say. Years of friendship helped him read Yuri better than other people could.

‘What do you think of us, maybe, doing pair skating?’ Yuri’s green, innocent eyes had connected with his and Otabek knew he was doomed. He would’ve probably agreed to anything Yuri said as long as he kept looking at him like that.

‘I wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess,’ Otabek had mulled the idea over. ‘You mean, like, at a gala, right?’

‘Yes. I was thinking back to when the old man and Katsudon did it a few years ago,’ Yuri had looked down, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

‘Hey,’ Otabek had put a discreet hand on top of Yuri’s knee under the table cloth which covered part of their legs. ‘Don’t be embarrassed. You know you can tell me anything, Yura. Never be afraid to speak your mind around me.’

‘Like when I first “met” you and called you an asshole?’ Yuri’s gaze had been filled with mirth then.

‘Exactly,’ Otabek had laughed. After a few seconds, he had added, ‘Do you have a song in mind?’

‘Yes! And I think you’re gonna like it. Maybe we could even have something ready for Worlds if we hurry,’ Yuri had told him excitedly, his eyes lighting up. Yes, those eyes were definitely going to be the death of him.

‘I’m listening,’ he had replied, leaving his half empty glass on the table and focused on his boyfriend’s voice instead.

 

* * *

It involved a lot of hard work from both sides, but they had managed. They had been constantly sending each other videos of moves and jumps, while still practising their own routines for Europeans and Four Continents, respectively. And, with the help of Skype, their coaches had also been able to exchange ideas as they both went over the choreography on two separate rinks.

The long distance relationship hadn’t really been that different from what they had had before. The biggest difference had been the _longing_ of being in each other’s arms at the end of day, which Yuri had felt more thanks to being surrounded by the golden couple’s constant flirting and heart eyes. _“Gross”_ had become the typical caption on his Instagram posts whenever Viktor and Katsudon were featured in the background as he made a disgusted face for the camera.

Again, they had managed. The combined choreography was going to look incredible; it already did in Yuri’s mind and he had to admit he had never been this excited for an exhibition gala before.

They finally met again at the hotel they were going to be staying at for Worlds in Saitama, Japan, and shared a quiet night in with some room service to catch up. After travelling so much and being apart for two months, they didn’t want to be around other people. And, although they were interrupted by Yakov before they had a chance to fall asleep together again, both men went to bed with smiles on their faces.

The competition was hard for everyone there, a lot harder than in other instances. Worlds, not counting the Olympics, brought the most competitive side out of people. No one could afford to get distracted.

Everyone skated to the best of their abilities, especially Viktor who, despite being thirty years old already, was still flawless on the ice. Yuri, as much as it pained him to pay the old man a compliment, admired his stamina and love for the sport to continue competing like that at the professional level.

And even getting Gold with a new personal best. Viktor Nikiforov won the Gold medal at Worlds at _thirty!_ No one saw it coming, but once it happened, the announcement of his retirement was not a shock anymore. He said he wanted to retire at his best, and having won Worlds for the sixth time, at his age, was exactly that for him.

Yuri ended up getting Bronze this time around, but he didn’t care. He had won Gold at the Europeans and he was happy for Viktor. And also because his boyfriend was standing on the other side, smiling for the first time in front of the cameras, with the Silver medal around his neck. Katsudon got fourth place due to a nasty fall that took away from his final score. But, he was happy for his husband’s achievement and knew that he just needed to practise more and “clear his head” –Viktor’s only constant note after three years of coaching him.

After the celebrations, came the gala. Everyone knew Katsudon and Viktor would be performing separately, since this was going to be Viktor’s last official gala as a competitor. And everyone assumed Yuri and Otabek would be doing the same. Boy, did they have another surprise coming.

Once the opening ceremony finished, Gold medallist Sara Crispino went first, followed by Katsudon and then by a Chinese pair skating duo, whose names Yuri did not know. He had never really paid that much attention to the other disciplines. Then, after Mila’s sexy and energetic performance –she had got Silver–, came Yuri's (and Otabek’s) turn.

Yuri stood on the ice and smiled as he waved his hands at the audience and got in position, hands on his hips. He and Otabek had decided to wear ripped, black jeans: Yuri going for a skin-tight pair while Otabek opted for a looser fitting to skate more comfortably. Yuri had his characteristic tiger t-shirt and black hoodie on, which brought a few appreciative squeals from his Angels. He smiled despite himself… those girls really did follow him everywhere he went.

A guitar started playing and then P!nk’s distinct voice resonated through the venue to the beat of the radio version of “Raise Your Glass” –Lilia had insisted. Yuri pretended to be annoyed to go with the lyrics of the song and started clapping his hands above his head as he glided through the ice. The audience happily complied.

 ****_Right, right, turn off the lights_  
_We’re gonna lose our minds tonight  
_ _What’s the deal, yo?_

He gained speed and did a death drop followed by a sit spin as the clapping got louder. He got up and continued lip-synching as if nothing had happened.

 ****_I love when it’s all too much_  
_5 a.m. turn the radio up  
_ _Where’s the rock ‘n roll?_

That was when Otabek got on the ice, wearing a t-shirt with a wolf on it, and did a few lazy circles. Yuri pretended to asses him from a distance as they neared each other. Otabek stopped skating as Yuri circled him like a hawk studying its prey, doing little hand gestures following the song, and even got right up to his face as the last phrase of the following verse started:

 ****_Party crasher, panty snatcher_  
_Call me up if you’re a gangsta_  
_Don’t be fancy, just get dancy  
_ _Why so serious?_

Once they reached the chorus, they started skating together, Otabek pretending to have problems copying Yuri as the latter moved with ease. The audience started singing along as the lights kept changing colours, but the clapping never stopped. They were delighted as the two men jumped, danced and skated in, almost, perfect synch.

 ****_So raise your glass if you are wrong_  
_In all the right ways, all my underdogs_  
_We will never be, never be anything but loud_  
_And nitty, gritty, dirty, little freaks_  
_Won’t you come on and come on and_  
_Raise your glass!_  
_Just come on and come on and  
_ _Raise your glass!_

The next verse was all about Yuri getting frustrated with Otabek because he would not loosen up, kind of like in real life if you asked him. Yuri made faces at him, fanned himself with his hand and challenged him as they continued moving around the entire rink.

 ****_Slam, slam, oh hot damn_  
_What part of a party don’t you understand?_  
_Wish you’d just freak out_  
_Can’t stop, coming in hot_  
_I should be locked up right on the spot  
_ _It’s so on right now_

Otabek pretended to start taking it more seriously then. Creating a little bit of distance between himself and Yuri, he gained speed and did a perfect quad salchow, and Yuri nodded at him as if accepting that, yes, maybe he _was_ okay.

 ****_Party crasher, panty snatcher_  
_Call me up if you’re a gangsta_  
_Don’t be fancy, just get dancy  
_ _Why so serious?_

They started dancing together, lifting their left legs, knee near the chest, and spun before the song reached the chorus once more. They moved closer and skated along the edge of the rink, their backs to it, as their hands found each other, and Yuri moved a little bit in front of the Kazakh. Otabek put his free hand around Yuri’s stomach and both lifted their left legs again in a beautiful arabesque, sort of paying tribute to the ballet class that had brought them together as kids, before Otabek lowered his leg and Yuri maintained the position for a few seconds longer.

 ****_So raise your glass if you are wrong_  
_In all the right ways, all my underdogs_  
_We will never be, never be anything but loud_  
_And nitty, gritty, dirty, little freaks_  
_Won’t you come on and come on and  
_ _Raise your glass!_

That was their cue. Otabek, hand still firm around Yuri, squeezed him a little, and Yuri jumped as high as he could, skate on his boyfriend’s thigh, while Otabek held him in place, and the blond extended his arms above his head. The spectators were now pretty much screaming as Otabek helped Yuri get down, and they continued skating into the next part of the performance.

 ****_Just come on and come on and_  
_Raise your glass!_  
_Won’t you come on and come on and_  
_Raise your glass!_  
_Just come on and come on and  
_ _Raise your glass!_

They lip-synched the next few lines and skated together in circles, doing a few more dance moves then on opposite sides of the rink before the final chorus.

 ****_My glass is empty_  
_That sucks!_  
_So if you’re too school for cool_  
_And you’re treated like a fool_  
_You can choose to let it go  
_ _We can always, we can always party on our own_

They nodded at each other once they got closer again and repeated the choreography Yuri had done during the first chorus, but now Otabek followed his every move in perfect synch, first next to him and then separately for each side of the audience as the song neared its final verse.

 ****_So raise your-_  
_So raise your glass if you are wrong_  
_In all the right ways, all my underdogs_  
_We will never be, never be anything but loud_  
_And nitty, gritty, dirty, little freaks_  
  
_So raise your glass if you are wrong_  
_In all the right ways, all my underdogs_  
_We will never be, never be anything but loud  
_ _And nitty, gritty, dirty, little freaks_

They skated back to the middle and moved in circles, doing the step sequence they had collaborated on flawlessly and smiling despite themselves because they had only practised it together for the first time that very same morning in a bit of a rush.

 ****_Won’t you come on and come on and_  
_Raise your glass!_  
_Just come on and come on and_  
_Raise your glass!_  
_Won’t you come on and come on and_  
_Raise your glass for me!_  
_Just come on and come on and_  
_Raise your glass for me!  
_ _For me_

They ended the performance standing right in front of each other in the middle of the ice, smiling like crazy, and with their right hands raised above their heads as if they were holding glasses.

Needless to say, they got the biggest applause of the night after Viktor’s performance at the end, of course, which left the entire audience with a bit of a bittersweet aftertaste. The night was filled with the laughter and happiness of promising young skaters along with quite a few tears from the ones retiring, since Chris was also hanging his skates that year, at twenty-eight.

The articles and rumours regarding Otabek and Yuri’s apparent relationship only got worse after that night, but neither cared. Otabek had already arranged for his coach and him to move from Almaty to St Petersburg so that he could be closer to Yuri. He would miss his family, but in that moment, he wanted to be near his, both, biggest supporter and biggest competition.

Yuri was beyond himself with happiness, so much so that he often got his jumps wrong, but Yakov, following Viktor’s advice, left him off the hook.

‘He’ll be better once Otabek’s there, believe me,’ Viktor would always reassure him over the phone. He and Yuuri had flown to Japan once more to spend their second anniversary in Hasetsu.

They hadn’t decided whether they would move there now that Viktor had retired for good or not, but for the time being, they both wanted to be in Russia for Yuri as he continued to improve despite his getting distracted every once in a while.

So, a month after Worlds, Yuri was happily walking around the city next to his boyfriend, who was laughing at some stupid comment Yuri had made about Viktor’s hair, but the man in question had heard him and was yelling back, completely ignoring his husband’s reassurances that his hairline was just fine. Beka’s laughter wasn’t a common occurrence, and Yuri prided himself in being one of the few people that not only got to hear it, but also prompt it.

When they reached the Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood, a building Beka had wanted to see, it was already sunset. Viktor and Yuuri exchanged a look before asking for the younger couple’s phones to immortalise their first stroll around the city. Otabek and Yuri posed, smiling, making silly faces, and then finally turned to look at each other and kissed briefly, eyes closed and a serene expression on both of their faces.

The photos looked so good that they decided to post them on Instagram at the same time as they waited for their dinner at a fancy restaurant, as per Viktor’s insistence and reassurance that it was all on him, even if Katsudon looked like he was going to faint after seeing the prices.

Of course, the picture that made the internet _explode_ was the very last one, as it confirmed what everyone had been thinking for three long years.

It was fine, though. They would deal with it together, as they always did.

 

* * *

**_Bonus! First social media posts as a couple:_ **

[Otabek's](http://68.media.tumblr.com/74608e5a992df45ae640708ae25dfc33/tumblr_inline_oljg6zj09M1u6yx1s_1280.png)

[Yuri's ](http://68.media.tumblr.com/7cb4dbd3bab8401ec5f3f8075b6ee455/tumblr_inline_oljg7kviXb1u6yx1s_1280.png)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know galas typically happen the very same night after the men’s FS but hey, look! Fanfiction! :)
> 
> Come yell at me about YoI/Otayuri over on tumblr: [madamredwrites](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/) ❤️️


End file.
